


A Father's Plight

by litfangirl689



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Father-Son Relationship, Good Lucius Malfoy, Hurt/Comfort, Lucius Malfoy-centric, POV Lucius Malfoy, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 19:17:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16102082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/litfangirl689/pseuds/litfangirl689
Summary: It's hard for someone like Lucius Malfoy to talk to his son. Especially when his son is disrespectful and never listens to him.Takes place in the summer of Draco's fourth year. Near the beginning of fifth year.





	A Father's Plight

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is just a oneshot that I've had in mind for a while, so I decided to write it. I'd love to hear your opinions on it.

Lucius sighs as he picks up the new stack of papers that the idiot Fudge has sent him. Lucius can’t comprehend how that incompetent man managed to become Minister of Magic. But this is necessary, he knows. To keep his influential position in the Ministry, even if he has to put up with someone like Fudge. His position is especially valued now, with the Dark Lord around. 

He is about to put his quill to the parchment when he hears a soft knock on the door to his study. Irritation fills him. 

“Who is it?” he asks sharply.

There is a brief moment of silence, and Lucius is about to yell at the person who is outside his door when he hears a quiet voice say, “It’s Draco, Father.” 

Lucius scowls. What could the boy possibly want? He usually knows better than to disturb Lucius when he is in his study. 

He thinks about not answering at all, but decides that Draco hasn’t done anything lately to deserve such a treatment. In fact, he has been quite well behaved, and Lucius hasn’t punished him in days now. 

“Come in,” he says curtly. He doesn’t look up when he hears the door open slowly, and continues scratching on the parchment with his quill.

A few moments pass, and there is still silence from Draco. Lucius decides that he will only acknowledge the boy if he is acknowledged first. He has a lot of work to do, and if Draco is not willing to show him respect, then Lucius will not either. That lesson is one his son has not yet comprehended, despite having been punished several times. 

“Father?” Draco finally says, and Lucius looks up to see him hovering uncertainly near the door. 

He studies his son closely. Draco has a letter clutched in his hands, which are fidgeting like they always do when he is nervous. That is another habit that Lucius has tried to stop, but it has never worked. 

“Stay still,” he snaps, and Draco’s hands immediately still. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, looking truly apologetic. Lucius raises an eyebrow at him. His son is already 15, yet he still makes careless mistakes that he should have learned not to do already. 

Draco looks confused for a moment before his eyes widen in realization, and Lucius is almost amused by the look of distress that appears soon after. 

“Sorry, Father,” he corrects quickly, eyes lowered to the ground.

Lucius sighs in disappointment. He has tried to teach his son to keep eye contact with people when he’s speaking to them, but now is not the time to discipline. That can be done later, but now he has to speak to Draco.

“Well, Draco?” he says, and Draco holds up the letter with slightly shaky hands.

“My Hogwarts letter has arrived, Father,” he says softly. 

Fifth year is an important year, Lucius knows. And both Draco and Lucius know that this envelope contains Draco’s prefect badge. Of course, only if he is one. He has to be. Lucius was one, his father was one. Draco is a Malfoy, and if he isn’t prefect, Lucius will have to punish him severely. And judging by Draco’s fearful expression, he knows this as well.

“Come here, boy,” he says, and Draco freezes at his harsh tone. But Lucius cannot feel sympathy for him. 

He knows that he can be cruel with his punishments, and he knows that his son fears him greatly. Worships him, yes, but also fears him. And Lucius knows exactly how to use that worship to his advantage. 

But it has been this way for generations of Malfoys. Lucius’s father did the same to him, and Lucius didn’t understand why until he had his own son. Then he understood what his job as a father was. To teach his son, to make him stronger. Draco is weak, just as Lucius had been. And Lucius is tasked with molding the next great patriarch of the Malfoy family. 

Draco walks forward slowly, until he is across from Lucius. He stands there uncomfortably, his head still lowered. His shoulders are slouched, and Lucius feels a sudden flare of anger. 

He stands up suddenly and grips Draco’s chin tightly, pulling it up so that Draco’s eyes met his. He almost lets go when he sees Draco’s look of absolute terror. But Draco has to learn. And if this is the only way to teach him, Lucius will do it. 

“Fix your posture. And always look at me when you’re speaking to me. I am your father, and you must respect me,” Lucius hisses, tightening his grip. 

Draco flinches, his gray eyes full of fear. He is only able to nod. Lucius purses his lips. He has just told Draco to be respectful, and he has already failed. His son is obedient, but he is also extremely forgetful and absent minded. Lucius has punished him for this many times, yet he repeats the same mistakes over and over. It’s disappointing. 

Lucius digs his fingernails into Draco’s chin, making him gasp in pain. He knows that there will be bruises on his son’s pale skin after this. He has always been easily bruised. 

“What was that?” Lucius asks calmly. 

“Yes, sir,” Draco whimpers. Lucius looks at him for a few moments, and Draco seems to shrink back, his gaze darting to something on Lucius’s right. Lucius glances there and sees his walking stick, the one that he uses to punish Draco. It is clear to Lucius that the boy is terrified of another punishment. 

Lucius lets go of Draco, and he stumbles. He lifts up his hand and touches his chin, wincing. Lucius sees the black bruises that have already begun to form, and feels a brief pang of guilt. This is his son. His child. Does he really deserve to be punished like this?

Then he pushes those thoughts away, and tells himself what he always tells himself after punishing Draco. That it is for his son’s own good. That it will make him stronger in the future. After all, without his own father’s guidance, Lucius would be nowhere near the man he is today. Lucius sits back down in his chair.

“Give me the envelope,” Lucius says, holding out his hand. Draco’s hands are quivering as he hands it over, and Lucius notes with some satisfaction that the letter hasn’t been opened at all. 

Draco watches him nervously as he slowly peels open the envelope. He’s still standing up, and it suddenly bothers Lucius. 

“Sit down,” he says. Draco sits on the chair on the other side of the desk. 

“You know what I am expecting in here, don’t you?” Lucius asks softly. 

“Yes, Father,” he says automatically. 

“And you know what the consequences are if it isn’t?” Lucius purposely lowers his voice to a cold, unforgiving tone. And Draco shivers, gripping the armrests tightly. His body is tense, rigid. 

“Y—yes, Father,” he stammers. 

Lucius finishes opening the envelope and reaches inside it to pull out a letter. He hands it to Draco. 

“Read it,” he orders. Draco bites his lip and opens the letter. His eyes skim the page, and Lucius resists the urge to roll his eyes. He sometimes wonders how his son can be so senseless. He slams the table with the palm of his hand, and Draco flinches horribly. 

‘Out loud, you foolish boy,” he snaps. Draco’s cheeks redden in embarrassment. 

“Sorry, Father,” he mumbles. Lucius watches him coldly, and his face flushes even more.

Draco clears his throat and reads the letter in a slightly shaky voice. “Dear Mr. Malfoy. We are pleased to announce that you have been selected to represent Slytherin House as this year’s male prefect.” 

He stops reading and stares at the paper in disbelief. Then he gasps and lets out a shuddering breath of relief. A bright smile lights up his face, and he looks at Lucius, who looks back at him indifferently. Draco’s face instantly falls.

Lucius frowns at him. Does his son really still expect Lucius to praise him? Praising will make him weak, and make him believe that he does not need to do anything to gain Lucius’s approval. And becoming a prefect is nothing special. 

But even if Draco will not get Lucius’s praise, he does deserve something. 

“What do you want as your reward, Draco?” Lucius asks, and Draco looks at him dejectedly. 

“I don't know, Father. Maybe a new broomstick?” he asks. Lucius nods, ignoring his son’s miserable expression. He realizes that Draco already has a broom, one that he has had for less than two years. But whatever Draco wants, he gets. 

“Done,” Lucius says, leaning back in his chair. 

Draco looks away from him and picks up his new badge to examine it closely, but Lucius knows that his son only wants an excuse to break eye contact with him. And surprisingly, he is not angry. 

“You are dismissed, Draco,” he says, and returns his attention to his work. He hears his son get up and make his way to the door, but it does not open. 

After a few moments of silence, Lucius looks up to see Draco standing in front of the door. He raises an eyebrow. Why is he still here? Usually after being dismissed, Draco wastes no time in leaving the room. 

“Yes, Draco? What do you want now?” Lucius asks. He is genuinely curious, and the curiosity grows when he sees Draco’s hesitation in answering. 

“Father, I was wondering…” His voice trails off, and Lucius quickly becomes impatient. 

“Continue,” he says stiffly. Draco walks closer to Lucius, his confidence growing. 

“I was wondering if the rumors are true? Is the Dark Lord really back?” Draco asks anxiously. 

This time, it’s Lucius who hesitates. Can he trust his son? No one but the Death Eaters know the truth. And Harry Potter, but he is only a nuisance. A temporary nuisance. He will be gone soon, once the Dark Lord regains his strength. 

Narcissa knows, of course, but Draco is still young and immature. He only turned 15 a couple of months ago, in June. What if he accidentally tells someone? If the Dark Lord found out, it could result in his death. The Dark Lord is not a forgivable man, and Lucius has no doubt that it wouldn’t be a painless death.

Lucius inwardly shudders at the thought. Despite what others might think, and maybe even Draco himself, Lucius does care about his son. And he cannot stand thinking about his son being killed. He makes a vow to himself that he will try his best to protect Draco from the war that he knows is coming. 

He remembers the first war, how proud he had been to serve the Dark Lord. But now he has a family, and he cannot shake off the feeling that what he is doing is not what is best for Draco and Narcissa. 

“F—Father?” Draco says nervously, and Lucius realizes that he has been silent for too long. Draco’s previous confidence is gone, and he seems to regret asking Lucius anything. 

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, I’ll just—” Lucius holds up his hand, and Draco falls silent immediately. 

Lucius decides that he will tell his son the truth, but not all of it. Draco does not need to know where the Dark Lord is now, or the identities of all the Death Eaters. 

“Yes, Draco. It is true,” he says, and he watches as Draco’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open. 

“So Potter was right,” he mutters under his breath. Lucius’s lips quirk upwards. He knows that Harry Potter is spreading word that the Dark Lord is back, and that no one is believing him. That is very useful for Lucius, as no one suspects that he is a Death Eater once again.

“And were you at the graveyard on… that day?” Draco asks uncertainly, as if he expects Lucius to be angry. But Lucius is not irritated at all. In fact, he is impressed that Draco is inquisitive enough to ask about this topic. 

“I was,” he confirms. Draco looks delighted. 

“What is he like?” he asks eagerly. Lucius presses his lips together. That information isn’t something that Draco needs to know, at least for now. 

“That’s enough, Draco,” he says dangerously. Draco’s smile fades, and he shrinks. 

“Sorry, Father. I got carried away,” he mumbles. Lucius nods. Now, he has to stress to Draco the importance of never telling this to anyone. 

“What we discussed in here can never leave this room,” Lucius says coldly, and Draco nods quickly. Too quickly for Lucius to believe him.

“Of course, Father,” he says, and Lucius studies him closely. Is he taking this seriously?

“Draco, I am serious. If I ever hear that you have told this to anyone, I will see that you are severely punished,” he says harshly, and Draco shudders in fear. But Lucius would much rather have Draco be afraid and alive than brave and dead. 

“Do. You. Understand,” he snarls, and Draco flinches back. His entire body tenses when he sees Lucius reaching for his walking stick.

“Yes, Father,” he chokes out. Lucius sighs and lets go of the cane. Draco does not need to be punished today. His son visibly relaxes.

Lucius softens his tone a little. “I do not want you to be harmed, Draco. Telling this to anyone is dangerous.” 

Draco looks at him uncertainly. Lucius knows that Draco isn’t used to tender words from him. But it is all for the boy’s own good, he tells himself. Maybe he’ll start to believe it if he tells it to himself enough.

“Leave,” Lucius orders, and Draco almost trips in his hurry to get out of the room.

Lucius watches him for a moment, and then turns his attention back to his work. He desperately hopes that he hasn’t made a mistake in telling Draco the truth. 

But little does he know that in the end, it wouldn’t be Draco who ruins their lives, but him...


End file.
